


guess we'll be somewhere out of sight

by reachthetree



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Gender Confusion, Louis in Makeup, Makeup, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Louis, Other, Trans Character, they/them pronouns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 16:52:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5593717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reachthetree/pseuds/reachthetree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The lipstick is coral pink, with an almost frosty effect to it, a soft and pleasant colour. Liam realises he’s never paid attention to his own lips before, but the lipstick on them forces him to see. He looks at himself in the mirror and sees someone new, a new version of him with beautiful lips and a Louis beside him.</i>
</p><p>-</p><p>Liam meets nonbinary Louis at a New Year's Eve party. It's love at second sight, among other things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	guess we'll be somewhere out of sight

**Author's Note:**

> Hiii!! Happy new year!!! A few things about this:
> 
> -I wanted to get this out asap, so it's not betaed, which I'm sorry about. Hope it's readable.
> 
> -The 'Gender Confusion' tag is not about Louis.
> 
> -The 'Trans Character' tag is about Louis, but also about Harry and Nick. :)
> 
> -Title from 'This is the year' by Marit Bergman, which is the perfect song for this fic, please listen to it (if you want to).
> 
> -I'm nonbinary myself but obviously that doesn't mean I can't say something shitty on accident, so if I've fucked up somehow you're very welcome to tell me.
> 
> Okay, I'm done. Hope you enjoy and have a lovely evening/day!!

Liam thought he knew most of Harry’s colourful friend circle, but the minute he arrives to the New Year’s Eve party it becomes clear that this is not the case. He recognises about half the faces and feels the nerves he’d gotten under control on the way over rise again. But there’s Nick Grimshaw, and he knows her, at least. She’s dressed as loudly as usual, in a bright orange skirt in some kind of shiny material, and purple tights. When he gets closer he sees that her lipstick and eyeliner are also in the purple/orange combo.

“Lime!” Nick throws her hands in the air, and the person she was talking to flinches away. “I was just saying, I could use a mojito.” She winks at him.

The first time they met Nick managed to mishear Liam as “Lime”, and Liam hasn’t had the heart to correct her. Besides, he kind of likes it. Everyone else just thinks it’s a weird nickname.

He smiles at her. “Hiya.” He waves to the person she’s talking to. “Nice to meet you.”

“Is your name really Lime?” The person looks amused.

Liam nods. “My parents are really into citrus fruits,” he lies. “My sister’s named Tangerine.”

Nick lights up, but then she smacks his arm lightly. “You never told me this, and now you tell Fifi without even knowing her name? I’m wounded, Lime.”

“Sorry.” Liam feels warm, but in a good way; he’s always liked Nick’s banter, even though he doesn’t always know how to handle it. It makes him feel more like himself, in a strange way.

He looks around the room for Harry. “Where’s our host?”

“I think he’s by the drinks table,” Nick says, which doesn’t help Liam much because he has no clue where that is. No two parties at the Styles residence are the same, and as much fun as that can be, it’s also highly confusing.

Nick must see Liam’s bewilderment, because she points out the table to him helpfully. “Thanks, Nick,” Liam says. “I’m gonna go say hi.”

She insists on a hug before he goes, enveloping him in a scent of jasmine perfume. It smells nice.

Harry is delightfully tipsy already, and spreads his arms wide when he spots Liam. It’s only half nine, Liam thinks with some concern as they embrace. Harry better pace himself, or he won’t make it to midnight.

“You are most welcome,” Harry says enthusiastically. “Here, have some of my special punch! It’s called Gay Indiscretions.”

The concoction is a bright pink and something glittery is simmering in it. It looks a bit poisonous, but if Liam knows Harry’s drink making skills, it’s probably delicious. Harry hands him a cup of it and Liam thanks him and takes a sip. It tastes like summer distilled.

“Great as usual,” he tells him. Harry looks even happier, if possible. He’s all around glowing tonight, wearing a lilac silk shirt and a tiara Liam’s seen on his younger sisters before.

“I’ve got to go entertain my guests,” Harry excuses himself, “will you be all right?” He knows Liam is sometimes awkward in these settings, bless his heart. 

“I’m good,” Liam promises. He raises his glass. “Got this, don’t I?”

Harry laughs his loud tipsy laugh, and strokes Liam’s shoulder briefly. “See you later, promise.”

He sets off and Liam instantly feels less comfortable; now he’s just drinking alone. There’s a good crowd there, but most of them are standing in groups, and Liam really isn’t comfortable worming his way into conversations like that. He takes a sip of his drink and wonders briefly if he should get his phone out, to have something to hold on to, when the door to the back garden opens and one solitary person strides in, causing Liam’s mouth to drop open.

This person is unlike anyone he’s ever seen before. They’re covered in silver and glitter from head to toe, the only break in it being the bare skin visible between their high-waisted shorts and crop top. Their legs are in some sort of glitter stockings, and at the end of them they’re walking in sparkling boots with a wedged heel. They look like a human disco ball, bound to spread joy wherever they are. But it’s not just the outfit; the person exudes confidence, walking through the crowd completely unbothered, and move their hips like they could belong in any room. They probably do.

Liam doesn’t realise that he’s staring until the person comes close enough to make eye contact, and they raise their glittering eyebrows at him. Of course they’re heading for the drinks table. Liam looks down into his own cup and tries to be cool, an art he has never mastered. Even in less sparkly situations.

“Hello,” the person chirps as they pour some of the pink drink into a cup. Now it would be rude not to look at them, right? Liam looks up and is met with an amused face.

“Hi.” What do you say to people? Right, introductions, probably. “I’m Liam.” He offers a nervous hand.

The disco ball just stares at it. “We’ve met before,” they deadpan. “We played some footie this summer, at Harry’s mum’s house.”

Liam lowers his hand, puts it in his pocket and then bringing it back out. He looks at the glittery wonder before him, and yes, behind the shimmer of silver on their cheeks might be a face he recognises.

“Louis,” the person says before Liam can make even more of a fool of himself.

“Right.” Liam shifts nervously. “Of course. I remember.”

Louis puts a hand on their hip and waves the other hand in the air. “I know, I know, I looked ‘masculine’ then. _Lads_ weekend, I recall.”

Liam has never heard anyone say the word “lads” with that kind of biting sarcasm before. Harry sometimes uses it ironically, but in a fond sort of way, because thus is his relationship with masculinity. But Louis says it like it’s a bad joke, and below them. Liam suddenly feels unsure of his sharp cologne. Is the bite in Louis’ voice aimed at him?

“Yeah, you look… different,” is all he manages. He regrets it as soon as he’s said it.

But Louis just snorts, evidently amused. “Can’t always be constrained by the limits of the gender binary.” They shoot a challenging smile at Liam, framed by the glossy silver on their lips.

“The what?” Liam is going to need another of those pink drinks, he thinks.

“Walked myself right into this one, didn’t I,” Louis mutters under their breath. Then, louder, they continue, “I don’t know if your Trans 101 with Harry ever covered this, but you don’t actually have to be a man or a woman. And that’s me. I’m nonbinary.” They look at Liam with hard eyes, as though steeled for resistance.

The Trans 101 is something Harry does when he comes out to his cis friends, where he explains some terms and thoughts, as well as providing a list of things not to say to trans people. Nick sometimes scoffs at this practice, saying Harry is too nice on cis people and that they should look this up themselves. Liam is very thankful for it, though, because he wouldn't really know where to look. And he easily could have said something hurtful without knowing it, otherwise. Which he absolutely doesn't want to do.

And now Louis has given him new information that he doesn’t know how to process. He mostly feels dizzy. “Harry didn’t cover this, no,” he says nervously. “So, er, what do I call you?”

Louis’ eyes soften and the shimmering cheeks rise when they smile. “I use they and them pronouns, if that’s what you mean.”

“Yeah.” Liam nods. “Thank you,” he adds.

“Any questions?” Louis is standing tall in their wedged boots, with proud shoulders. There’s glitter in their hair as well, producing an almost snow-like effect on the bleached blonde swoops and swirls of it.

“What does it… Feel like?” Liam doesn’t quite know how to word any of this, but it seems to be okay. Maybe. He takes a sip of his drink and lets the sweetness simmer in his mouth a bit before he swallows.

“It varies,” Louis tells him. “Some days I feel masculine, sort of. But it’s hard to pinpoint what exactly that feeling really means, so I try not to dwell on it. Sometimes I feel feminine, too, but it’s the same confusion there. Mostly I just don’t engage with notions of maleness and femaleness.” They shrug. “I kind of just… Am.”

“What about the clothes?”

Louis’ hands seem to instinctively find the hems of the short shorts, and they stroke over the fabric lovingly. “I wear whatever the fuck I feel like,” they say confidently, “gender norms be damned.” A proud smile.

“I love that,” Liam blurts out. It has never occurred to him before that one might dress in clothes “meant” for another gender, that it’s all just a game where you can break the rules. The thought is making him feel large inside, like a dam has broken and the river runs free again.

“It’s pretty fucking amazing,” Louis agrees. 

They lean forward and look intently at Liam’s face. He tries his best not to blush under the gaze, but Louis’ undeniable _presence_ makes it hard. 

“How would you like some makeup?” Louis asks when they lean away again. “Your lips have potential, and I brought some things.” They grin hopefully and there’s only one answer Liam can give, really.

“Sounds fun,” he says, probably in a less casual tone than he intended.

Louis claps excitedly, and glitter whirls through the air. It really is everywhere. “Brilliant! Come with me, then.”

They walk through the party, to the hall where Louis must have left their bag. Liam is walking behind them and trying not to study their backside too intently, but the intense shimmer of the shorts makes their bum magnetic, like it’s a sun and Liam’s eyes are planets, unconditionally revolving around it. It’s impressive that they can walk so confidently in heels. Liam is sure he wouldn’t be able to take half a step before toppling over, had he tried. The thought of trying makes his blood rush, and he clumsily tries to drink and walk at the same time. He gets some sticky liquid on his hand, instead.

Louis takes him to Harry’s bedroom, because “we don’t want to make people wait for the bathroom.” Makes sense. Liam feels nervous again, and he tries to breathe and remember that it’s almost a new year. It’s the time to try new things, right?

Harry’s bedroom is small and filled with ridiculous things (there’s a penis-shaped bong next to a book on mindfulness, to name a couple). Louis sits down on the unmade bed, completely unashamed, and pats on it next to them. Their silver outfit contrasts beautifully against the dark purple sheets, Liam notices when he sits down.

“All right then.” Louis zips open their makeup bag. “What would you like? Lipstick? Glitter?” They look at Liam’s face with that intense gaze again, and Liam’s pulse quickens. “Maybe some mascara,” they say thoughtfully.

“Anything is fine,” Liam says timidly.

“Oh, come on!” Louis tuts at him with a mascara they’ve picked up. “Engage a little, there’s gotta be something you’d prefer.”

Liam looks at Louis, a little stunned by the shimmer and sparkle of their appearance still. “I’d love some glitter,” he says.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” Louis grins, then puts down the mascara and digs around in the bag. “Aha!” They triumphantly hold up a small vial of silver glitter.

Liam closes his eyes. The party can be heard downstairs, but the closed door is protecting them, putting a wall between them and the frantic beat and boisterous laughs. The first touch of Louis’ hand is gentle, and fills Liam with an inexplicable feeling of melancholy. How can something so soft exist in a world so hard?

“I’m just going to highlight your cheekbones with it,” Louis explains quietly. Their hand is holding Liam’s jaw, so he can’t nod.

“Okay,” he breathes out.

The glitter feels coarse against his skin. It seems to come from some sort of roller, like a miniature deodorant, and Louis applies it in swift strokes starting below Liam’s eye. The hand holding Liam’s jaw moves when they do the other cheek, and Liam barely dares to breathe. Something is happening in him, and he’s not quite sure what it is. The one thing he knows is that he hasn’t felt this alive for as long as he can remember. 

It’s just makeup.

“There!” The air feels cold on Liam’s jaw when Louis removes their hand. “Now you look almost half as fabulous as me.”

“Almost half?” Liam opens his eyes to Louis sticking their tongue out at him. “Thanks.” He wants to see how he looks, but he doesn’t dare ask, doesn’t want to seem too eager.

But Louis must know the feeling, because they fetch a clutch thing from their makeup bag and opens it so Liam can look in the little mirror inside. It’s smudged with beige goo, but Liam recognises his face in the reflection. Glitter is descending his cheeks like splendid waterfalls, and it doesn’t look as good on him as it does on Louis, but his reflection smiles at him.

“I love it.”

Louis’ very eyes seem to sparkle. “How about lips, then?” They jut out their bottom lip. “Please. You’d look so good in a pink lippy, I promise.”

There’s a warmth seeping into Liam then, at the thought of Louis, the magnetic human disco ball, thinking he could look good. “Absolutely,” he says.

Liam’s lips tend to get chapped in the winter, and normally he can’t be arsed to do anything about it, but when going to parties during this season he includes some chapstick in his preparation routine. He’s very thankful for that right now. Somehow he think Louis’ lips are always well moisturised, and it would have been embarrassing to be berated for dry lips.

“It’s important that you stay still,” Louis instructs, and grabs Liam’s face again, this time by the chin. Liam doesn’t nod, because he’s a good boy who does what he’s told.

The lipstick feels sticky, is Liam’s first thought. Then: a subtle scent of something chemically sweet. Louis spreads the colour in careful strokes with the little tube, and Liam has to close his eyes again because Louis is so close, and he doesn’t know where to look. There’s glitter everywhere. With his eyes closed, his senses instead focus on the faint warmth from Louis’ breath when they lean close. Do they need to be that close? Liam holds his breath and tries to focus on staying still and controlling his heartbeat. It feels like it’s beating outside his skin, disrupting the desired stillness of his lips.

“You have beautiful lips,” Louis says quietly. They’ve stopped moving, but their hand is still holding Liam’s face in place.

“Thank you.” Liam thinks that’s the appropriate thing to say, maybe it isn’t, but before he can worry about it too much his mind focuses on the feeling on his lips. It’s like they’re dressed up, and moving them feels slightly awkward, like he’s ruining it.

When he opens his eyes, Louis’ face is still so close all he can see is glitter and a sharp blue gaze. Instinctively, he turns his head away, and Louis immediately leans back again. They smile.

“Wanna see what you look like?”

Liam nods, and Louis brings him the mirror again. And… Okay, wow. The lipstick is coral pink, with an almost frosty effect to it, a soft and pleasant colour. Liam realises he’s never paid attention to his own lips before, but the lipstick on them forces him to see. He looks at himself in the mirror and sees someone new, a new version of him with beautiful lips and a Louis beside him.

“Good, yeah?” Louis nods encouragingly.

“This is so cool,” Liam says. He’s starting to get used to the feeling of damp softness the makeup creates, but he kind of wants to touch it. Some of it comes off on his fingertip, and Louis laughs at him.

“Be careful, yeah? That’s expensive shit.” They don’t look very berating, though, just amused at Liam’s amazement.

“Sorry.” Liam can’t help saying it.

“You’ve never done this before, have you?” Louis looks genuinely interested, leaning forward to listen to Liam’s answer.

He shakes his head. “Didn’t know it was an option,” he admits. He half expects Louis to laugh again, but they just tilt their head and look at him with a pensive quirk about their mouth.

“Anything you want is an option,” they say seriously. Then they take a deep breath and flicks some of the fringe out of their face, which causes glitter to rain down on Harry’s bed. “Look,” they say in a hurried voice. “Obviously there was a time when I didn’t know my options either. And it was confusing and uncomfortable and strange, before I found words for it.”

They stop, and Liam can see them chewing on the inside of their cheek. The muffled party clamour on the other side of the door seems to amplify the silence. Liam can almost feel his mind expand; it’s a physical sensation and it makes him feel unsteady.

“Did you always want to wear makeup?” The question seems to take Louis by surprise; they startle a bit, but then smile.

“Not really,” they say with a shrug. “I mean, I thought it looked cool on other people, but I didn’t have the stereotypical trans narrative of dressing up as a kid, if that’s what you mean. But now I love it because it’s one of the few ways I can get people thinking, questioning the ideas they have on how people are meant to dress and look, often based on their body type. Like, if they perceive you as a man or a woman.” They smile again, a small one just at the corner of their mouth. “I want to fuck that up.”

Liam has looked up to a number of people in his life, pop artists, footballers, the occasional actor, and definitely his mum. But he has never quite admired someone as much as he admires Louis in this moment.

“That’s wicked.” He can still feel the lipstick on his mouth when it moves.

“I’m glad you think so.” Louis grins. “Now, where’s my drink?” They stand up, leaving Liam on the bed for a moment before reaching out their hand. “Come on, Lime, off we go.”

The nickname sounds different when Louis says it, like it’s an actual sour lime in their mouth, but one that they enjoy biting into. Liam takes their hand and follows.

When they get downstairs, Louis is still holding Liam’s hand, guiding him through the groups of people to the drink table. Liam sees Nick notice and she mouths “nice one” to him, but he just shakes his head in response. She rolls her eyes and turns back to her conversation.

By now it’s about an hour and a half until midnight, and people have started dancing, if somewhat awkwardly. Harry is in the middle of the dance floor, twirling like there’s no tomorrow to the sound of an upbeat pop song. Liam sees Louis notice, and catches the fond expression on their face in the corner of his eye.

Louis need their hands to make drinks, which is understandable, but Liam still feels like he’s lost something when they let go of him. He takes a drink of his own, another ‘Gay Indiscretion’, while Louis makes a rum and coke.

“Do you smoke?” Louis asks without looking up from the slice of lemon they’re putting in their glass.

Liam doesn’t, not really, but if that’s what it takes to keep Louis to himself then sure. “Yeah,” he says as coolly as he can. “Haven’t got any with me, though, do you?”

Finally, Louis looks at him again. They nod. “Let’s go outside,” they say, and once again, Liam follows.

Louis’ jacket is large and army green. You’d think it would clash with the sparkle extravaganza that is the rest of their outfit, but Liam thinks it makes them look no less magical. A shimmering forest creature in silver and green, dressed to blend into the winter woods.

The night is clear and there’s a slight round to the moon, either on its way to full or away from it, Liam isn’t sure. It’s cold. He takes a large gulp of his drink while Louis puts two cigarettes between their silvery lips and light them both at the same time. There’s a smidgen of silver shimmer on the tip of the cigarette they hand Liam.

“Thanks,” Liam says, and immediately feels embarrassed by how much he means it. Thanks for lending me some of your shimmer, thanks for giving me a chance, thanks for being you.

“No problem.” Louis takes a deep drag and lets it out slowly with a satisfied sound. “I’ve never resolved to quit smoking,” they confide. “I know I’d never keep that resolution anyway, so why lie to myself?”

Liam snickers. “Smart,” he says.

“What about you?” Louis flicks ashes into the snow. “Any resolutions? I wouldn’t guess ‘start going to the gym’, judging by those biceps.”

They raise an eyebrow and Liam feels warm rather than cold all of a sudden. “Well, no,” he says. “I think I’m just generally resolving to make myself more like who I want to be, but…” There’s a brief silence where he tries to find the words. “I haven’t been too sure of who that is, exactly,” he finishes awkwardly.

Louis nods. “Makes sense,” they say. “I think about that all the time, though. Like, how I can make my life good for me.” A smile erupts on their face. “The good life definitely includes nicotine, though, I know that much.”

Liam huffs a tiny laughter. “Gotta have something to get you through.”

“Exactly.” Louis grins approvingly.

They smoke in silence for a while after that. It’s not uncomfortable, exactly, but this whole night has Liam feeling like a tightly wound string on a violin. His lips keep sticking to the cigarette filter, the lipstick coming off on it in specks of pink frost. A lot of stars are visible, and Liam turns his face up to look at them. The vastness of space is overwhelming but beautiful; the cigarette in his hand is his one tether to earth.

“When I was a kid, I thought stars were really dead lion kings watching over us,” Louis says, their voice bringing Liam back from space. He giggles.

“Really?”

“They said so in the Lion King!” Louis’ voice goes high. “I was five, how was I meant to be source critical?”

They laugh together, and when their cigarettes are gone, Louis wordlessly lights another two. Liam’s mouth feels rough from the nicotine, but he takes it. He ignores how cold his hands feel, and looks up at the stars again.

“Hey,” Louis says, the snow creaking under their feet when they shift their weight. “I’m cold. Can I hold you for a bit?”

Liam is going to get glitter all over him. “Sure,” he says unsteadily, the second cigarette bitter in his mouth. 

Since Louis is wearing heels, they are about the same height. Louis wrap their arms under Liam’s and rests their head on his shoulder, the hand with the cigarette coming around to their mouth over it.

“Excellent,” they say over Liam’s shoulder. “Just the right height.” And as if the demonstrate, they put their chin to rest on it.

“You are wearing heels, though,” Liam remarks.

Louis snorts. “They are a representation of my inner height. The tallness of my soul.” They sound serious, but then they giggle, and Liam giggles with them. 

It’s starting to get warmer between their shared body heat, and Liam think he could stay like this all night, just standing with Louis, talking and laughing. From inside, music and shouting can be heard, as well as clinking of glasses. It has to be near midnight soon, Liam thinks vaguely.

“How do you feel about new year’s kisses?” Liam wishes he could see Louis’ expression, because he can’t decipher what their tone of voice means.

“Um.” Liam has never actually had a new year’s kiss, due to bad timing and lack of luck. “It’s a nice concept, I think?”

“Good.” Louis is quiet for a while, and Liam can feel their arm move when they take a drag off their cigarette. “So I didn’t prepare your lips for nothing, I mean,” they add hastily.

Liam’s pulse comes to a screeching halt, only to rush away from him the next second. What? “What do you–? Who’s–?”

Louis laughs nervously. “I was trying to nominate myself, loser.” They say loser in a fond way and Liam suddenly wishes to be called that all the time.

“Oh. I mean, yeah. Please.” It’s a bit strange that he still can’t see Louis’ face. He’s looking at the snow-covered plum tree in Harry’s back garden and the string of lights on it, also covered in snow, when he feels Louis nod.

“Glad we got that sorted out,” they say.

Apparently it can be that easy to get what you want.

Louis doesn’t back out of Liam’s arms until people start pouring outside, glasses in their hands and shoes untied. They smile at him, like they have a secret, and Liam feels warm even though Louis’ body is gone. Nick spots them and winks at Liam again, and this time he just grins at her.

“Happy new year!” Harry shouts, and almost falls over, but Nick catches him in time. Everyone laughs, but Liam looks at Louis. The snow glitters, but Louis glitters all the more brilliantly. What a blessing, to be right here and now, witnessing it.

When the fireworks start, Louis touches their warm hand to Liam’s chilly cheek, smearing the glitter they applied earlier. They whisper “happy new year” before pressing their lips together. The kiss tastes like sweet chemicals, somehow amplified by the crisp winter night air, like the taste is cold and sparkling. Liam wonders if his tongue is glittery. He almost smiles, but Louis’ kiss is drawing him in, enveloping him in promise and an explosion of a million bright colours.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! xx


End file.
